"Normal" week in the aftermath

 To go back to our regular lives is so strange. I don't like it. I feel like I'm walking in mud. Or like I am operating while on half a dose of Benadryl. I don't quite know how to do the things that all came easily to me two weeks ago. I was already prone to overstimulation and now it's unbearable. I have to work, answer phones, make appointments, talk to people...as if things are normal. And they're not normal. None of this is normal. This week I made calls to make sure my mom doesn't have to go through probate to put the cars in her name. Blessedly, she doesn't need to go through the court and can just do it as a "surviving spouse" transfer. It's a surreal call to be making when your mom isn't even 59 yet. 

The kids have school. We test drove a car (because right before all this happened, my husband's car was totaled). I'm trying to pick up the pieces of my life that existed two weeks ago and find my way with them again. I know eventually, I will feel mostly ok again. But I had only really started to feel ok after my sister's death in the last 6 months or so. Not that I wasn't doing better and grieving in less painful ways, but considering I had a baby 12 days after Jenny died, it took the better part of four years to really feel like I came out of the postpartum/grief/trauma fog. Now I have to do it all over again, with a pain even more acute, a trauma even more painful, a fog even thicker than before. 

This time, however, I'm now raw dogging it with Zoloft and hopes and dreams. Counseling has already been scheduled.